Read The Librarian Principle Online

Authors: Helena Hunting

The Librarian Principle (19 page)

“Bigger problems? I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Things have gotten more complicated.” Liese poured a cup of coffee. “By the way, how are you finding time to call me? Don’t you have a huge project to finish this weekend?”

“It’s done. Turns out three pots of dark roast and no sleep makes me ultra creative. I figured you might want to reconsider coming to visit me.” Marissa sounded hopeful. “Am I to assume the bigger problems include Ryder?”

“Yup.”

“What happened?”

“I’m not one hundred-percent sure, but I got drunk last night, and he drove me home.” Liese rubbed her forehead, willing her memory to return.

“Oh, God, like, puking drunk? Did you puke on him?”

“No!” Liese exclaimed, then paused, not entirely sure. “At least I don’t think I did.”

“Too bad. That would have been awesome.” Marissa lapsed into silence briefly before yelling, “Oh, shit! Did you fuck him again? You totally did.”

“I did not. I’m not stupid.” Liese shifted on her chair. Nope. No tenderness, which meant there had been no sex. She definitely would have felt the aftermath, even if she didn’t remember the act.

“I know that. However, people do stupid things when they’re drunk. I also know how long you’ve been flicking the bean over this guy. Anything can happen in a moment of weakness.”

“Did you really just say
flicking the bean
?”

“Don’t try to distract me with distractions.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Liese tried not to laugh and failed.

“So are you sober enough to get your ass to the city so I can see your face and make sure you’re not lying to me about riding Ryder again?”

“Ha ha, you’re so witty,” Liese deadpanned. “I’ll pack a bag and be there in a few hours.”

“Awesome. Can’t wait to see you!” Marissa’s excitement made Liese smile, despite feeling like absolute crap.

“Me too.”

Liese hung up and nursed her coffee on her way upstairs to get ready. After packing the essentials, she crawled into the shower to freshen up. Wrapped in a towel a few minutes later, she felt much less like yesterday’s garbage and more like a human being. She went to step over her clothes from the previous day, but they weren’t in their usual spot on the floor in front of her closet.

More flashes of memory came back to her: her face buried in Ryder’s neck, the taste of his skin on her tongue, being laid out gently on her bed. It had to be a dream. But another image popped into her mind, this one clearer than the last. She’d started to undress. While Ryder was still there. Her clothes were folded neatly on her dresser, and there were no signs of hanky-panky, which meant only one thing: she’d propositioned him, and he’d rejected her.

Liese checked herself over again, desperate to find some indication they’d been intimate, but nothing. Devastated for reasons she didn’t want to own, she grabbed her bag and headed out the door . . . only to find her car wasn’t in the driveway because it was still at the bar.

Twenty minutes and a ten-dollar cab ride later, she tossed her bag in the trunk and headed for Marissa’s.

By midafternoon she’d arrived at her old apartment to find Marissa waiting at the door with cocktail in hand. “So, tell me what happened with Ride-Me,” she said as she ushered Liese inside, evidently not interested in preliminaries such as “Hi” and “How are you?”

“His name is Ryder.” Liese shot her an unimpressed look, and Marissa handed her a cocktail of her own. “Thanks for the drink.”

“What are friends for if not to help your hangover by giving you another one? Now fill me in on the Ry
der
situation, and start from the beginning.”

Liese followed Marissa to the modest living room, and they both dropped onto the couch. Liese adjusted the pillows and sank in, immediately comfortable. “I don’t know why I’m so worked up about this man.” That was a bald-faced lie; she knew exactly why. “First he propositioned me after he found the photoshopped pictures, then later that day we almost had sex in my office, except we were interrupted. That in itself should have been a sign. But he invited me to his house, and I was hormonal enough to go. Then he buttered me up by making dinner before getting down and dirty.” She flushed at the memory of how down and dirty things had gotten. “And as if that wasn’t enough, he coerced me into staying the night, and we had sex again the following morning. All of that would have been fine, except he didn’t talk to me for the rest of the week.” She paused, raising her finger to drive home the next point. “Then . . .” Liese waited for dramatic effect. “Oh my God, just when I think maybe I’m going to be able to get over it, do you know what he did?”

Marissa shook her head, remaining silent while Liese continued her diatribe. 

“He called me into his office at the end of the day yesterday and told me he wanted to see me—after not speaking to me for four days. What the hell am I supposed to think?” Liese took a sip of her drink and coughed. Vodka. Nothing beat the hair of the dog.

“That he’s a huge wang,” Marissa supplied sympathetically.

“So I told him I had plans, because I did.” Liese shot up off the couch. Running her fingers through her hair, she began to pace. “I wasn’t going to cancel for him, even if the sex is out of this world. There’s just something about the way he words things, as if it’s a suggestion, but it’s not . . .” Liese trailed off, her fingers at her throat as memories of their night together came flooding back.

“But that wasn’t the end of it. Do you want know what happened next?” Liese barreled on, the question rhetorical. “He showed up at the bar with the school’s other administrator, crashed our table, and I got so blitzed I couldn’t drive my own ass home.” Liese flailed her arms and circled the living room like a caged bird, unable to escape the rising fear that came with not remembering how she’d acted.

“Which is when he swooped in and saved you by driving you home and trying to get into your pants again?”

“No. Yes.” Liese shook her head vehemently. “I mean, yes, he drove me home, but no, he didn’t try to have sex with me. At least I don’t think he did. I have a feeling I may have propositioned him, but apparently I’m not all that fuckable when I’m wasted,” Liese replied.

“Well, that’s one redeeming quality about him, isn’t it?”

“How is that redeeming?”

“Um, well, Liese, don’t you think it’s more respectable that he
didn’t
try to have sex with you when you were passed-out drunk?” Marissa asked. “Or would it have been better if you’d woken up sore with no recollection of how you got that way?”

“Good point.” Liese sipped her drink. In her post-hangover haze, his rejection had seemed to mean he didn’t want her, period. But when she considered the conversation they’d had before the bar fiasco, it made sense. “What the hell am I supposed to do? He’s telling me he wants to take me out again after being an asshole all week. Driving me home and not taking advantage of me doesn’t negate that.” Liese flopped back down on the couch.

Marissa patted her shoulder. “If he wasn’t your boss, I’d tell you to play mind games with him, but for some reason I don’t think that would be the best idea.”

While they drank, Liese filled Marissa in on some of the parts of the story she’d previously left out, particularly how the doctored photos were involved and how Ryder had managed to come across them.

“The bondage ones were a joke—you know that, right? I didn’t honestly think you were into that kinky shit,” Marissa mused.

“I think that’s the least of my problems right now.” Liese downed the rest of her cocktail.

“I’ll let that go for now, but we’ll be returning to the subject, just so you know.” Marissa grabbed Liese’s empty glass and went to the kitchen. The small loft apartment made it easy to continue the conversation while she made more drinks. “I guess the question is, what do you want to do? Bear in mind, you have a horrible track record with men in general, particularly with clingers, and this guy is your boss until the end of the school year.”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I have absolutely no idea what I 
should
 do. I know I 
shouldn’t
want anything to do with him for a multitude of reasons, some of which you’ve just stated. It could damage both our careers if the wrong people found out. We can’t have a real relationship, at least not while we’re working at the same school. Besides, I’m pretty sure that’s not what he’s looking for anyway.”

“I don’t get it,” Marissa countered. “Why would he want to risk being exposed by taking you out for dinner if he didn’t want a real relationship? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I don’t know. I’m so confused,” Liese groaned.

“Think about it, though. If he didn’t want anything from you, do you really think he’d have followed you to the bar?” Marissa set the shaker down and leaned on the counter. “If he hadn’t asked you out for dinner, I might agree with you about him not wanting more or just wanting to check up on you. But I think this guy has it bad for you, and really, who wouldn’t? You’re a stellar lay, based on previous reports.”

Liese sniffed. “Hardly.”

“Don’t even.” Marissa picked up the shaker. “I can’t begin to tell you how much information Sean imparted after you broke up with him. And remember that guy Irving, or Ivan, or whatever his name was? He talked about how amazing you were in bed every damn time I ran into him. It was really annoying, and kind of gross. I bet Ryder is already addicted to riding you, and now he can’t get enough.”

“You really love the play on words, don’t you?” Liese sent her a dirty look. “And how is rehashing my previous sexcapades helpful?”

“I can’t resist the pun, but that’s beside the point. Look, you were obsessing over this guy before you even went to the interview, and when you came back, he was all you talked about. I’m not an idiot, and neither are you. Clearly you want this to go somewhere, even if you refuse to admit it.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want. It can’t happen.”

“Why not? If he wants to try to date you, and you want the same thing, it’s pretty much a go, isn’t it? I’m not getting what the issue is.” Marissa cracked the shaker and split the cocktail between two glasses. She topped Liese’s with ice and juice.

“He’s my superior. Teachers have been cut out of the pool for things like this,” Liese explained, taking the highball.

“The pool? What the hell does swimming have to do with anything?”

“The teaching pool, not a real pool; it’s the substitute list.” Liese grew serious. “Another teacher lost out because she had an affair with her principal.”

“Well, you’re a librarian, not a teacher, so that takes care of that, doesn’t it? Besides, doesn’t an affair imply one of them is married?”

“You’re splitting hairs. It’s that they were involved with each other that’s the problem.”

“I don’t think so. The point is, you’re both adults who are capable of making adult decisions. Talk it out if you want to, ignore him if you don’t. Either way, you’ll figure it out.” She grinned. “Now I want to hear about your bondage fetish.”

Liese felt her cheeks heat. “I don’t have a bondage fetish.”

“Right. So did he tie you up or what?”

Several cocktails, a deep dish pizza, and a few overly informative conversations later, they called a cab, ready for a night out on the town. Liese hadn’t been to a nightclub since her move to Fullerton, and it wasn’t usually a scene she missed. Tonight, however, she wanted to cut loose and forget about her problems.

Unfortunately, after one Cosmotini, a Sean-spotting forced Liese to drag Marissa away from a flirty, well-dressed business man.

“Sean’s here,” she shouted in her friend’s ear. Surveying the club, she tried to locate him in the crowd again before he could find her.

“What?” Marissa scanned the room. “Does that guy have a tracking device on your phone or something?” Business Guy tried to reclaim her attention, but she ignored him and continued to search the throng of clubbers for Sean.

“Liese! Hey, Liese!” Sean’s shrill voice rang out over the pounding music.

“Oh, no.” She could see her panic reflected in Marissa’s eyes. Judging by the volume, he was close.

“Just pretend you can’t hear him.” Marissa squeezed her shoulder.

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